Kyle's Self Destructive Spiral
by Forlornhero
Summary: Kyle just dosen't care anymore. His mum hates him. His family hates him. What's the point anymore? How far will Stan go to save his best friend from certain destruction by his own hand? --- Non Slash
1. Chapter 1

Kyle looked at himself in the gloomy waters of Starks pond. This proved to quite a task as the morning mists had rolled in and were obscuring the lake with their soft silky tendrils. He looked like crap; after all he had been up for the last seventeen hours. He'd been kicked out of the house for the third time this week. The worst thing was he hadn't even done much this time. All he did was hold on to Kenny condoms and his mom had flipped. After rejecting his story she jumped to the conclusion that he _must_ be having sex or planning to have sex, he doesn't even like any of the girls in his year! They all are either pure sluts or downright unattractive.

Of corse she had a huge rant at him about STDs and pregnancy. She even threatened to buy him a chastity belt. This was when Kyle had had enough and shouted, screeched, at her telling her that she was a fat stupid bitch! Wrong move. So now Kyle is here, at Starks pond. Where the biggest decision of his life is about to unfold.

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Kyle's POV

"Stupid mum, stupid dad, stupid life in general. Why do they have to do this to me, I mean none of the other guys mums Are this bad. Stan's mum may yell and Kenny's family may be very religious and patriotic but none of their parents jump to conclusions like this. They weren't even my condoms!" I thought as I sat on my bench looking down at the misty waters of the pond

I got up and walked paced back and forth around the bench I had been sitting on. It was just terrible that I couldn't have a normal family and life. Without thinking I picked up a sharp rock out of the pond. It was glistening in the moonlight as I placed it onto my wrist and with one quick, swift movement drew the stone across my veins. My heart stopped, my eyes widened. I saw the blood flow from the newly born cut at my wrists and I realised what I had done.

"Shit!" I cursed as I examined my wound.

I had been lucky; the cut was not deep enough to fracture the vein. If it had, I would have been in deep trouble. I sat down on the wooden bench and looked at my cut once more. The blood was slowly trickling down my arm and dripping onto the soft grass beneath me. I was astounded. The cut hadn't given me a sensation of pain rather it had given me a new feeling. A blissful feeling which swept mercilessly across my entire body; from fingertip to toe. Now I understood why people with problems did it. An hour passed and the blood stopped coming. The grass which was once green was now covered in a red stain. I hadn't lost much blood but it still looked conspicuous. I cautiously dipped my arm in the water to clean of the blood. It had already dried like paint onto the skin.

It was now 3am. I sighed, maybe I could manage to get into Stan's or something. I was just about to leave the pond edge when a man suddenly came up to me. He was way taller than me and his voice sounded made him sound about sixteen. He was wearing a black hoodie tight over his face and I couldn't get a decent look on his face.

"Yo, kid" He said with a New Yorker accent. "You lookin' kinda' down, want something to make you feel better?"

I was curious. Who wouldn't be?

"Sure, what have you possibly got which would make me feel better."

"Pot."

As soon as the words left his lips and vibrated along the air I was hooked. Confronting thoughts ran through my head.

_Try the pot._

_Don't try it, it could kill you._

_It will be fun and make you feel better about yourself._

_Remember what the cannabis croc said about it, 'One suck and you're pretty much fucked!"_

_It's ok just one spliff won't hurt._

_What would your mother say._

That last though had made up my mind for me. I didn't care what hy mum thought of me anymore she was just some fat old hag and I knew it. This was my ticket out of nagville and into the perfect realms of the imagination.

"How much is it gonna cost?" I said briefly.

"Because I'ma nice man I'm gonna give you one spliff for free cos you might not like it. It's fair deal if you don't, I won't be offended or anything. Just remember to come back here tomorrow if you like it. Same time, same place. I'ma tell you though it will cost you $5 for one spliff I can sell you a lighter for just $1"

To be honest I was taken aback by this man's kindness. He was giving me a chance to decide if I liked it or not. Perhaps dealers weren't anything like the scamming frauds who tricked you into addiction. It was just all government crap and adult's lies. I accepted the man's offer and he lit the spliff for me.

"Enjoy!" he said with a casual wave as he walked off into the mists.

I put the spliff in my mouth and using the method I had learnt all those years ago from when Cartman handed them out during school. I inhaled the cannabis smoke and was taken inside the realms of dreams.


	2. Chapter 2

Stans POV

"Aww come on Cartman don't use the nooby M16!" I screamed down my mike. Playing call of duty with Cartman is hard work when he is using the best weapons in the game. I took a sip of water from the bottle beside my bed. I regained focus on the game at hand. Eyes furiously scouring the screen and ears pricked at the sound of Cartman's characters footsteps. I swung my character around and shot Cartman right in the ass. "Surprise bitch!"

"Screw you Stan, I'm goin' home!"

"You are home fatass!"

I managed to say before Cartman disconnected. I sighed. It would be good to get a nights rest anyway. After all I was going with Wendy on a date tomorrow. Didn't want to look tired for the love of my life. I had just snuggled down in my nice warm bed when I heard the rapp of knuckles at the window. I lazily lumbered out of bed and, dreary eyed, walked over to the window. There he was. Kyle had climbed up my wall and next to my window. It wasn't such a big deal. We did it all the time when we were a bit younger. However, something told me that this time it was different. I could feel it in my gut.

I flipped open the catch on the window and swept it aside to let Kyle in. He was frantically looking around although he had a huge grin spread on his face. I was happy to see Kyle so elated. After all, his mum had been giving him such a hard time with his grads dropping and all that. I just didn't think I would see him happy ever again! I put on a tired smile myself and out-stretched my hand towards Kyle's to help him up.

Once Kyle was in the room he collapsed on the bed and started laughing manically.

"Ur…? Kyle," He turned his head towards me. "Are you ok?"

"Sure Stan why I've never been better in my entire life!" He said the sentence with such speed it took my five seconds just to register what he had said. Before I could ask him what had brought on this sudden change in mood. Hell, before I could mutter a syllable, he was off.

"Have you ever noticed how there are frogs on your ceiling, or how your room is like, so many different colours, or how about the fact that hat matches the colour of your hat! Wooah that's weird!" Kyle was running around the room now pointing to individual things and saying something weird about them then laughing again while moving on to the next object. I couldn't understand it. Why the hell was Kyle acting this way? My question was answered quicker than I expected when Kyle's hand caught my eye. Kyle brought his hand up to his mouth and I finally saw it. A crack spliff. I couldn't belief it. The guy who had brought us all together to fix Kenny's cheese problem. The guy who I had learnt so many lessons about life with. The kosher Jew who had spent his entire life being the more level headed member of our group. Was on crack. I simply waited until Kyle's drug addicted stupor brought him back in front of the bed then I brought my head down and charged.

I used my football skills to my advantage and rugby tackled him onto the bed. The poor Jew didn't stand a chance of getting back his precious spliff from the floor before it had extinguished.

"You bastard!" Kyle screeched at the top of his lungs. All I saw next was his hand dive into his pocket and bring out a menacing looking trench knife.

Stan was taken aback by what he saw. Kyle now not only was using drugs but had also somehow got his hands on a twelve inch blade. I immediately threw myself off him as he swung the knife where my back had been merely seconds before. Now I was just scared. Kyle started to move towards me brandishing the knife, the grin which once plastered his face was gone now. Now there was only an expression of pure hatred and darkness in his eyes. But it seemed that at least some of Kyle was still in control and Kyle jumped out of the window. I was relived. As anybody would bne to have just escaped deaths iron, cold grasp. It would have been just perfect if only my bedroom had have been on the 1st floor.

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Thanks for reading and I hoped you liked it. Review or flame please. Your feedback really helps me.


	3. Chapter 3

Stan looked on in horror as Kyle stumbled back and fell out of the window. He was powerless to do anything but watch as Kyle's legs were flung above his head and gravity did its work. Stan ran to the window, not expecting anything but the worst from the scene before him. To his surprise Kyle had not died. Kyle had not been injured. He heard no sickening crunch as Kyle's thin, pale legs hit the marble patio under Stan's window. Only Kyle doing a pro back flip and landing on all fours like some sort of cat/human hybrid. Kyle looked up at Stan's amazed features with a smirk of malevolence.

"See you some time later 'buddy'" Kyle shouted, adding extra emphasis onto the last word. Then he walked away, pulling out another spliff from his jacket.

Stan threw himself back onto his bed and looked plainly at his ceiling with a sigh of defeat. He looked around his now wrecked room, he was surprised that his parents hadn't woken and come in all gun's blazing, literally!

Stan solemnly walked out of his room into the family bathroom. Turning on the light he lazily walked up to the mirror where his plain and ghostly white face came into view. He looked like total crap but he was going to stay like that until he snapped Kyle out of this drug crazed world he now resided.

"Come on Stan," He said to his reflection. "we can do this, we always pull through."

"But what if we don't," his reflection seemed to say back. "what if we fail, what if Kyle gets hurt. Or worse dude…"

Stan's features dropped once more and the realisation of what he had to do now struck him. Stan moved like lightning; picking up his jacket and hat from the rack in his room he soared towards his school back emptying out all of the junk from school and picking up his emergency sweet stash. He also took a flashlight, some spare batteries, and the flares Uncle Jimbo had given him for Christmas. . He was about to leave the room when his fingers paused on the door knob. His hand's slowly and softly moved towards the top drawer on his desk. Where his gun was kept. He tried to stop himself from reaching to the gun but before he could have a second though his body had already taken the gun and ammunition from his desk and left his room for the night. Not forgetting to close the door softly behind him, Stan took to the streets to find his best friend.

"Ready or not Kyle, want me or not; I'm coming for you."

Kyle was at Stark's pond once again that night. He sat mournfully on the bench facing the pond. Kyle wasn't as high as he was before he got here. That was mostly because his supply he got from the deal had been used, still, Kyle liked to think he was still high; still oblivious to all the harshness the world with it's sick, sick sense of humour had doled out to his plate.

Kyle looked on towards the crystallized pond. Its beauty transfixed him for a while, the majestic sun was rising out from the horizon and showering the pond with it's fabled warmth and hope. The rays fell on Kyle's face. He needed to get back home and grab his school bag. Then he froze; remembering the night before. Kyle's face fell. He could never go back to his normal life. But what was so great about that. No more school, no more mother, no more Cartman.

Kyle stretched up towards the sky, the cool air brisling his hair as he stood up of the bench. He was going to school all right, but not as everybody remembered him. A smirk grew across his pale face. Kyle bent down and picked up the stone form the night before, still covered in his own blood. This time the stone did not strike his flesh, but the polyester fibres of his coat.

"Time for a little style change."

Stan walked along the stone path leading up to the school grounds. He was shattered from the night before. Stan had to stop himself from hitting the wall of the house beside him with frustration. His entire night had been wasted trying to track down his elusive and startlingly changed friend.

_Was it really the weed or was it still him there?_ Stan froze.

"Stop thinking like that," he told him self reassuringly "he was just under the influence. I'm sure he'll be alright in fact there he is now, coming to apologise!" Stan stared at the school gates and at Kyle coming towards him. Stan finally looked properly at Kyle, more importantly exactly what he was wearing. It looked like something out of a horror movie in Stan's view. He was wearing his usual jacket except it was now pitch black. The kind you would see one of the Goth kids wearing round the back of the school. Stan could clearly see it was still the same coat though. It was just spray painted black.

"Hey Stan," Kyle said grinning wickedly.

"Err hey Kyle." Stan said. He noticed his knee was wobbling, a sure sign he was nervous. Kyle seemed to notice this too but he didn't back off, infact he took a step forward thus shortening the distance between the two friends.

"What the hell is up with you Kyle?" Stan whispered though making sure he was speaking loudly enough and with enough expression to make sure that Kyle knew exactly what he felt. "You got high and almost fucking killed me!"

"I don't need you being a second mother Stan. So just lay off me and let me do what I want."

"Kyle drugs are dangerous! Look, I know you're getting really worked up about your mum and all but drugs just aren't the answer to that."

"Maybe your right…" Stan's face lit up. "or not…" Stan's face fell once more. He was just winding him up. Pulling his leg, so to speak.

"You asshole!" Stan spat "You can just run away from your problems then. Just don't expect me to be sympathetic when you come crying back to me; desperate for help since you don't have a job."

"Right back at ya buddy." Kyle turned away from Stan. "I don't plan to live that long anyway." Then he walked away from the school. The teacher at the gate noticed him. She caught up to him and place a hand on his shoulder.

"Just where do you think you're going young man?" She said sternly. Thick spectacles balanced on her nose. Kyle turned to face her. "Kyle Brofloski?"

"Yes ma'am, sorry about this but I have better things to do with my time than sitting on my arse all day doing shit all."

"What has come over you young man! I'm be phoning your mother if you walk any further!" Stan watched in anticipation. That might just get Kyle back into school. Just maybe…

"Go ahead." _Shit._ "I don't think she really cares anymore anyway. I mean, why should she? I don't." His foot steps grew quieter as he walked round the corner, not even looking back to the place he had once loved so much. It was his time now. His time to gain money, respect. _I think it's time for a hair cut. _He thought as he walked past a stylist. But how to get the money?

That's it for this chapter. Thought I better update this one while I have the chance. My new story has taken up most of my writing time. Review please!


	4. AN plus a note to 'Reg'

Hello everybody. Just to say to one of the flames I have gotten for this story: I may not have done research on exactly which slang I use for different drugs. The drug I am saying Kyle uses is Cannabis. Cannabis can be smoked in a joint (or spliff as some people may call them) and is not the most harmful drug. However, you seem to think that the entire reason Kyle has gone this weird is because of him using the drug. Well you are mistaken. The fragile mental state Kyle had at this point in time is because of his mother. She put him under so much stress that he started to think she didn't really care about him. Not only that but he also thinks that she controls every aspect f his life due to protectiveness etc…

To say that this story reads 'like an after school special' is frankly absurd. This story is based loosely on the film 'Fight Club' in which the main character does one thing, one act of difference, one thing which releases him from his normal schedule. This is what Kyle has done. By rebelling that one little bit he has become more insane. Also the fact that he thought he was going to get super high caused him to _really _get high. I hope this cleared some things up for you Reg and you can enjoy my story a little bit more. My next update shall be coming soon!

P.S

Sorry for anybody who wanted a real chapter, you'll have to live with this A/N for a while. Shall try to update soon!


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